


Under the Influence

by MaddietheMuse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek, Consensual, Dubious Consent, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Magic, NOT wolfsbane made them do it, Not Beta Read, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Positive, Sharing a Bed, Sleep, Sleeping Together, The Alpha Pack, Top Stiles Stilinski, Underage Kissing, Underage Sex, Wolfsbane, positive consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddietheMuse/pseuds/MaddietheMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has been dosed with something that has left his inhibitions almost nonexistent, leaving it the perfect time to tell Stiles how he's really been feeling lately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Taste

**Author's Note:**

> This has not been beta read, or even pre-read. I don't know anyone in this fandom. If anyone is interested in being my beta, let me know! Otherwise, feel free to point out errors to me. Cheers

Derek came to after being rendered unconscious by the drug cocktail he'd been pumped full of by the Alpha pack. He wasn't able to move and after he managed to force his eyes open he realised why. He was tied to a steel column inside the old warehouse. Thick rope coiled around his chest and legs pinning his bound hands behind him. His senses felt hazy—likely from whatever the alphas had drugged him with to get him here—but he could hear someone coming.

Stiles.

He relaxed as he recognised the teen's erratic heartbeat even before the sound of his voice.

Stiles appeared in the door way at the far side of the large open room, his cell phone against his ear and talking a mile a minute as usual. He didn't seem to be in any sort of distress and only had a small visible scratch on his cheek. Stiles calmness helped Derek to remain calm, too.

"No, I'm good here. You get the girls home and then get to Deaton's," Stiles rambled as he walked toward where Derek was tied up. "He's awake now," he said looking at Derek and giving a half smile of greeting. "Okay, yup. Bye." Stiles hung up the phone and put it in his pocket, as he continued forward and stopped in front of Derek.

"You're awake!" Stiles paused to reach into his front pocket and pull out a small Swiss army knife. "It might take a while, but this is all I've got."

"What happened?" Derek asked. He closed his eyes to try and clear his head but, try as he might, he didn't really seem to care how he had come to be tied up or what had happened while he had been out cold. He felt safe which was strange since he had felt anything but when he'd encountered the Alpha pack and been captured.

"Well, while you were taking your little nap," Stiles joked, as he crouched beside Derek to start cutting at the rope blinding his legs to the column. He reasoned that if Derek were able to step forward a bit he could probably free his own hands, speeding up the process which seemed like it was going to take some time. "Lydia stepped up to the plate and figured out the whole mess."

"Which was?" Derek asked, honestly not really caring. He felt completely coherent, but relaxed and free somehow; uninhibited—a little what he thought being pleasently drunk must feel like.

Stiles looked up to Derek, who hadn't taken his eyes off of the younger man since he'd first walked into the room. "The big guy, the Alpha-Alpha I guess, the one that...anyway, he was looking for a new, uh, mate? And he apparently set his sights on Erica."

"That was it?" Derek asked as Stiles managed to cut through the first rope. He stood up and began unwinding it. His plan of having Derek free himself through brute strength didn't work out though, so he began working on the rope around Derek's chest next.

"Yeah. Well, it took a while to get there, and obviously he didn't think you'd let her go without a fight, which is why you're tied to this column," Stiles scoffed. "He thought Erica was yours...your mate," he explained.

 _Oh dear God, no!_ Derek thought. He had actually been somewhat regretting giving Erica the bite. Sure, she had proven herself useful in the beginning, but she was actually quite annoying, and Derek wasn't sure he'd ever be able to trust her fully. "Did she go?" he asked, not wanting to sound too hopeful.

"Yeah, she did," Stiles replied. "She said she'd call you and explain, but she didn't think you'd mind all that much." Stiles paused for a minute and swallowed thickly before continuing. Derek couldn't help but watch the motion of his throat, or pick up on the suddenly nervous scent that rolled off Stiles. "Uh, Boyd went too," he added quietly.

"Oh," Derek wasn't sure how to respond to that. He liked Boyd, and thought he would be a good Beta eventually, but he wasn't really affected by the news like he thought he should be. He was distracted by the scratch on Stiles' cheek—who had done that to him?—and by the feeling of his arm brushing across his shoulder as he worked at the rope, and by the rapid patter of Stiles' heart. The same taunting rhythm that he knew he was supposed to be ignoring like usual, but somehow couldn't right now.

"And the others?" Derek asked, trying to regain a little bit of focus.

"Jackson was torn up pretty badly so Isaac took him to see Deaton. Scott is taking Lydia and Allison home and then meeting them there. That leaves me to cut you lose," he joked again.

Derek marvelled at the warmth that rushed through his body wherever the younger man touched him. He'd been trying to resolutely ignore the way Stiles affected him lately too, and had managed to, right up until he had his inhibitions blown apart by some crazy concoction the Alphas had deemed appropriate to knock him out with. Now, he wanted to press his face into Stiles' neck and breathe him in deeply, and fill his lungs with his scent.

He pressed against the bind across his chest until he could rest his forehead on Stiles shoulder. The scent of Stiles always made him a little unnerved, but this was way worse than it ever had been; he couldn't seem to draw enough air into his lungs.

"Hang on. I'll have you out of this in a second," Stiles muttered under his breath as Derek nudged at his shoulder and neck with his face.

"Stiles?" he breathed into the skin of the younger man's neck.

"Hmm?" Stiles replied distractedly.

"Stiles?" Derek said more intently, drawing Stiles' attention away from his task of cutting through the bind with the tiny blade.

Stiles drew back far enough to look Derek in the face before answering, only to have his reply cut off as Derek's mouth collided with his. Startled, Stiles pulled back with shock written clear across his face. "Whoa! Dude!" He stayed out of Derek's restricted reach and studied the Alpha's face a moment before the realization of what had just happened fully hit him. "Oh," he gasped, searching Derek's eyes for the taunt he was sure would be there.

"Stiles," Derek's voice was breathy and soft around his name; his already clouded mind drift further into the direction he had tried so hard to prevent over the last few months. Just the open look of askance that Stiles was giving him was enough to push him over the edge, and Stiles seemed to get on board with the idea quickly, as he leaned forward and captured Derek's mouth with his in a searing, clumsy kiss—he didn't have a lot of experience in this department after all; none really.

His lack of skill didn't seem to deter either of them. Stiles raised his hand to Derek's neck and stepped a little closer. Derek swiped his tongue over the teen's full lips, asking for entrance to Stiles mouth which he was granted as Stiles gasped and leaned even further into Derek.

Stiles pulled away panting for breath a moment later, resting his forehead against Derek's and trying desperately to draw enough air into his starved lungs for his brain to start working again.

"Stiles?" Derek murmured, turning his head to run his nose along the underside of Stiles' jaw.

"Hmm?" was Stiles' hummed reply; his eyes closed in enjoyment of the new and intoxicating contact.

"Untie me?" Being tied to the column and unable to move wasn't Derek concern, it was not being able to touch Stiles like he craved.

"Right. Yeah, okay," Stiles stammered as he stepped back. He shook his head a moment before returning his attention to the ropes around Derek's chest. His mind reeled as he worked the rather dull blade of his cub-scout knife over the thick ropes. Had that actually just happened? Had Derek really kissed him? Not just kissed him, but kissed him like he wanted to do a whole lot more, too. The kiss that Stiles wasn't even sure had actually transpired held a promise of so much more.

He paused a moment to lift his hand to his own mouth as if he could feel the press of Derek's lips and the burning trail of his tongue still against his skin. He chanced a glance over his shoulder at Derek, but his heart dropped a little when he found the werewolf staring straight ahead, his face locked into his usual scowl. Clearly, Derek wasn't feeling as euphoric about their shared moment as Stiles had been.

Stiles took a deep breath and refocused his attention back to releasing the binds around Derek. Cutting through the last strand of the rope, he stepped back as the coil started unwinding and fell around Derek. He helped to push the rope down Derek's body until it fell loose around his legs, and took a couple of steps back allowing Derek space to step free. Once he was no long bound tight to the column, Derek was able to break the rope that tied his wrists behind his back.

They stood awkwardly a few feet apart, neither saying anything, barely looking at one another for a few moments before Stiles turned toward the entrance. "Come on, I'll take you to Deaton's," he huffed over his shoulder, feeling nervous about what had happened between them only minutes before. Derek followed silently, wondering if he had made a mistake in kissing Stiles. He had thought the kiss was wanted on Stiles' end as much as his—the second kiss had been initiated by him after all—but now he was only getting a sense of confusion and denial from Stiles. Despite the uninhibited feeling he still had from the drugs he'd been given, he couldn't bring himself to actually ask Stiles what he was feeling.

By the time they got to Stiles' jeep parked at the front of the building, Derek had worked through the scenario in his mind several times. He couldn't deny how he felt about the younger man any longer; it could be the drugs clouding his mind, it could be the feeling left after finally kissing him, or maybe the exuberance with which Stiles had returned that kiss, it didn't really matter. He didn't want to stop this thing from moving forward if he could help it.

"I don't need to see Deaton. Just take me home," Derek said as Stiles turned the key in the ignition causing the old engine to roar to life.

"Home?" Stiles asked, looking nervously over his shoulder at the Alpha. "Like, your house? Or the train station?" he clarified.

Derek hadn't meant either if he was being honest. He had wanted Stiles to take him to his house. He felt safe there, and he didn't want to be away from the boy. The nervous energy rolling off the teen in his direction made him second guess vocalizing that fact even though everything inside him was screaming for it. Perhaps the effects of the drugs were beginning to wear off, or he had just gotten used to them?

"It doesn't matter," he said leaning his head back on the head rest and closing his eyes against the overwhelming urge to bury his face in Stiles' neck again. He wanted to comfort him and reassure him that everything would be okay. He hated the scent of worry on his skin; he always had, but knowing it was him who had caused that distress made the feeling even worse.

"I think you should be checked over, you know, to just, um, make sure that, you're...okay" Stile voice wavered as Derek turned his head and looked at him with one cracked open eye.

"Stiles, just drive," Derek sighed. "Please? I'm fine," he tried again to calm Stiles' nerves.

"Okay, well, uh, Isaac will probably stay with Jackson, I guess," Stiles began thinking out loud as he threw the jeep into reverse and backed out of the parking lot. "So he won't be going back to the station tonight, the house is closer, but you haven't been there in a while, so the station is probably better, I guess?" Stiles rationalized. "But if Isaac doesn't come back tonight, you'll be there alone. He glanced nervously over at Derek as he drove down the deserted road through the industrial area of town. "I could...uh, I could text Scott, to uh.." he normally would have just suggested that he himself stay with the Alpha, or that he come back to his house, but was feeling uneasy with the very suggestion given the moment of unexpected intimacy that they had shared back at the warehouse.

Nothing in Beacon Hills was actually very far apart, and it wasn't long until Stiles was pulling into the old overgrown lot surrounding the decommissioned train station that Derek and the others had been using as their base since the threat of the Alpha pack had run them away from the ruins of Hale house.

"You're more anxious than normal," Derek said as soon as Stile had shifted into park.

Stiles stammered his denial, "No!" knowing full well that Derek would be able to tell he was lying. Hell, he would be able to detect that lie it was so obvious. "Yeah, I am," he admitted with a nod, not even turning to see Derek's incredulously raised eyebrow.

"Why?" Derek knew why, or he thought he did; that Stiles either regretted kissing him, which he hoped wasn't the case, or that he wanted to kiss him again. He wasn't able to determine which was the case from the mixture of scents and cues coming from him though. His heart was pounding, and he smelled of a mixture of nervous anxiety, and sadness that was cut with a heady dose of lust. Stiles wiped his palms down the front of his jeans before finally turning to look at him; their eyes only meeting for a brief second before the teen looked away again.

"I just...well, I wasn't really, um...I wasn't expecting that, back there," he stammered. Stiles was always animated when he talked, but he was practically flailing about the cab of the jeep with his rambling confession. "The, uh...the kiss, I mean," he added, finally flicking his eyes back to Derek, a flush washing over his pale cheeks.

"Are you upset?" Derek asked quietly, not daring to look away; needing to see the reaction in Stiles' face.

"No," Stiles was unable to look away from the werewolf now that he'd locked eyes with him.

"Good." Derek shifted forward in his seat, turning to face Stiles in a slow sure movement. "Stiles, I want to kiss you again." He closed his eyes a moment against the blatant honesty the drugs still caused in him, but opened them again quickly.

"You do?" Stiles seemed shocked.

"Yes."

"Oh," Stiles' voice cracked. He swallowed thickly, and licked his lips, drawing Derek's attention first to his bobbing Adam's apple and then to his full bowed mouth. Stiles just stared at him in return, his eyes wide with uncertainty.

The air in the cab of the jeep was heavy and overly quiet for a long drawn out minute as they stared at each other. Derek focused on the hammering of Stiles heart and how he licked his lips nervously a few more times. He fought the urge to reach across the small space and touch them, or to touch Stiles at all.

"Can I?" Derek finally broke the prolonged pause.

Stiles shifted, bit his lip and nodded with a nervous quick bobbing of his head. He shifted again to turn in his seat to face the wolf across from him. He'd had his first real kiss less than a half hour ago, unexpectedly, and was apprehensive to say the least. He hadn't ever considered Derek in this capacity, not really. Sure he could appreciate that the Alpha was attractive, extremely attractive. Even given the fact that Stiles wasn't entirely convinced of his bisexuality, he was willing to admit at least that much. Sure, he had considered guys as a potential, but had never done anything to act on that. He had been completely infatuated with Lydia until earlier in the year, and hadn't really had a lot of time to focus on finding a new candidate for his affection, what with the constant threats to his life due to his involvement in the pack.

Derek moved forward slowly, reaching his hand behind Stiles' neck as they leaned closer together. Stiles watched him closely until he was so close that he was no longer able to focus on his green-grey eyes, finally closing his own. Derek paused a moment hovering his lips just above Stiles as Stiles drew in a shaky breath, then lightly let his lips touch down. The contact was brief and soft before Derek pulled back slightly, allowing Stiles' reaction to filter into his senses. The boy was still nervous, but he wasn't giving off any cues of panic or discomfort, so Derek leaned in and kissed him with more conviction. He allowed his mouth to press to Stiles' closed lips for a few seconds before gently moving against them. He toyed with Stiles' lower lip, drawing it between his own teasingly and pulling another ragged breath from him. Stiles' hand reached up between them and curled around Derek's shoulder. Derek took that as a sign, allowing himself to relax into the kiss.

He let his senses flood with everything Stiles: the feel of his skin and hair under his finger tips on the back of his neck; the smell of his skin as his anxiety and nervousness melted into a building excitement and longing; the sound of his heart as it beat in his chest and the soft hitching breaths in the back of his throat threatening to turn into a moan at any second; and the taste of him. The orange tic-tac taste was less obvious now allowing him to fully savour the flavour of Stiles' mouth—sweet and something warm and familiarly spicy like cloves or cinnamon. Derek snaked his other hand around Stiles' waist and shifted him forward in his seat, pulling them closer to one another as the kiss deepened. The mounting moan in Stiles' chest slipped free and Derek swallowed the sound greedily as he teased his tongue into Stiles mouth, licking and exploring every corner he could reach, Derek shifted forward in his own seat, wanting to get closer still.

He raised his hand up the back of Stiles' neck to tangle in the short strands of soft hair and drawing his head back, giving him access to the span of soft pale flesh of his neck. Stiles gasped and sighed as Derek's tongue trailed up the front of his throat and over his Adam's apple ending in a little nip to his chin before Derek ran his nose along his jaw to his ear.

"God, I've wanted this for so long, Stiles," Derek breathed into the space below Stiles' ear, winding his arms tighter around him. Stiles' braced himself against Derek's broad chest, revelling in the feel of his hands and mouth on him. He'd never experience anything as intoxicating as this and he wanted to be closer to him still. He fought to ignore the voice in his head, the one planted there by his father repeatedly about boundaries and taking things slow and being respectful—although when his dad had given him these talks it was always hypothetical since he'd never had an opportunity to exercise his dad's lessons on behaving like a gentleman in reality. He wondered if they still applied when he was the one that was clearly at a disadvantage both in experience and in physical strength. He certainly didn't want to act like a gentleman. He wanted to crawl into Derek's lap and press himself close to him. He wanted Derek to know exactly the effect this was having on him; he wanted to push his hard dick against him.

"Uhn, shit, what took you so long?" he choked out a belated reply to Derek's confession, trying to keep a little decorum between them. Derek had spoken; it was only polite to reply, right? With words if he could. Thinking was becoming increasingly difficult as Derek's hands slid roughly down his back leaving a burning path under his shirt. Derek was clearly having the same thoughts of getting closer, as his hands scooped under his ass and pulled him forward, dragging him across the space between the seats. Stiles clumsily moved one leg to either side of Derek's thighs until he was effectively straddling his lap. The jeep's cab was cramped for such close proximity given that neither of them was particularly short. Stiles' ducked his head as he settled himself on Derek's thighs.

Derek pushed his face back into Stiles' neck, holding firmly to his hips, breathing the varied answers to Stiles' question between kissing and tasting all of the younger man's exposed skin.

"I wasn't sure," he started with a nip to Stiles' earlobe, "you'd want this." Trailing his tongue over the shell of his ear he continued with, "You wanted Lydia, not me." A line of small kisses along the tendon in Stiles' neck were followed with "And you're so young," the truth escaped Derek in a pained sounding moan as he shifted his fingers under the hem of Stiles' t-shirt to brush lightly along the skin above his waistband. 

A soft shuddering sigh was the only reply Stiles was able to make for several minutes. Derek added to his distraction by hooking a finger in the neck of Stiles' shirt and tracing his collar bone with the tip of his tongue.

"If it weren't for whatever they shot me full of, I probably never would have said anything." Derek said with a huffed laugh in the dip of Stiles' throat.

The truth of what Derek had said was like ice water running through Stiles' veins. The realization, or reminder rather, that Derek wasn't fully himself right now came flooding back along with the Sherriff's life lessons over the years.

"Oh Fuck, wait," Stiles gasped as he stiffened in Derek's arms and pushed against his chest, trying to put some distance between them.

Derek's arms dropped immediately letting Stiles sit back against the dashboard, still perched on his lap. "What?" He searched Stiles' face, feeling a sudden panic bloom in his chest. He'd laid everything out on the table for Stiles, holding nothing back, and was going to be crushed for showing the weakness.

"We shouldn't..." Stiles panted with a mixture of panic and lust stealing his breath from his lungs. "We...you're not thinking straight...I can't...Fuck, Derek, I'm sorry. I'm not that guy. I should have remembered. I'm sorry," he rambled, scrubbing his hand through his messy hair.

"I am thinking straight, Stiles," Derek said quietly, reaching to touch his arm. He allowed the kernel of hope rise within him. Stiles' smell filled the cab and surrounded him and he didn't smell like he didn't still want this. "I'm thinking more clearly actually. I wasn't lying when I said I've wanted you like this for a long time." He slid his other hand up the front of Stiles' leg, gripping firmly to the top of his thigh in an attempt to get back some of the physical contact between them.

Stiles clapped his hand over Derek's on his leg, stopping him from moving it any higher, even though he really wanted him to. He moved out of Derek's lap and back to his own seat, further out of Derek's reach, trying to keep his mind focused on the conversation rather than the tingle of his skin where it missed the Alpha's touch.

"Derek, as much as I would love to keep playing tonsil hockey with you, because, yeah, I totally, totally would. But seriously, I need to know that your head is clear for real. That this isn't some side effect of whatever Wolf's Bane cocktail those assholes gave you." He sighed heavily and slumped back against his seat, closing his eyes. "I should have taken you to Deaton's."

"No. I don't need him," Derek muttered. They say quietly in the jeep, neither looking at each other for a few long quiet moments. Their quiet brooding was broken by the sound of Stiles' phone beeping a text message alert in his back pocket.

Stiles arched his hips up to get at the phone in his back pocket, inadvertently drawing Derek's attention to the still rather noticeable bulge in the front. After reading the message the younger man sighed heavily before turning to look back at the Alpha.

"It's Scott. He's just dropped Jackson and Isaac off, and is heading to Alison's, of course." he said with an annoyed roll of his eyes. Scott was still seriously hung up on the hunter's daughter, and even though she had proven herself trust worthy, Stiles was still unhappy about the amount of time his best friend spent with her. It certainly wasn't jealousy, either. "Do you want me to tell him to come here instead?"

"No, he'll need the reassurance that she's okay; let him go," Derek answered, avoiding looking at Stiles it seemed.

An awkward silence fell between them. Derek sat motionless, starting out the windshield toward the entrance to the train station while Stiles fidgeted with the phone still in his hands. Derek could sense his uncertainty again, and felt it reflected in himself. He was sure of his feelings for the teen, that wasn't a question, but the teeter totter of emotions that Stiles was projecting was making him question that certainty. Despite the effects the drugs had had on his inhibitions, Derek was having a hard time building up to what he wanted to say to the youth.

"I..." he began, his voice coming out in a croak and betraying him. He drew in a deep breath and swallowed thickly before attempting to speak again. "Will you stay?" He closed his eyes a moment before turning his head to face Stiles.

Stiles' eyebrows pinched together low on his brow, masking his usually wide, bright eyes with a heavy concern. "I don't think..." he began, only to be cut off by Derek's rushed response to the unspoken rebuttal.

"I don't want to be alone," he admitted—clearly the potion was still causing him to blurt his thoughts unchecked.

Stiles' mouth hung open slightly, his tongue running lightly over his lower lip, which Derek couldn't' pull his eyes from. "Derek,"

"I won't touch you if you don't want me to. I just...please?" he asked, quietly, raising his eyes from Stiles' mouth to meet his eyes.

Stiles was nodding before he spoke. "Yeah. Okay," he agreed.

Derek nodded too, and let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding.


	2. Kiss by the Book.

Watching the Alpha for cues, Stiles reached his hand up to rest on the latch for the door, raising his eyebrows in a slight question. Derek followed suit. They walked across the lot and up the steps to the station in silence, maintaining a distance between them. As they descended the interior stairs, the available light dropped off, until Stiles was left to hold tight to the handrail and step down each stair carefully. Finally he reached back into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone, using the light from the screen to light his path.

"Hold on," Derek muttered, rushing down the remaining steps and disappearing into a small room that must have been the ticket office for the station. He returned a moment later holding an industrial flashlight which he switched on and handed to Stiles.

"Uh, thanks."

Derek only nodded in response and turned around.

Stiles had only been to the station once before, but the differences were immediately noticeable. The old train still sat at the platform, but the platform itself and surrounding area had all been tidied up. Stiles noticed that there were various items of equipment stacked against the wall of the platform the further along they got.  Derek remained close to Stiles, walking slow enough for him to keep up while watching the lit path under his feet. At the far end of the platform they went through a door behind a gate. Looking around, Stiles figured the room would have originally been an operations office of some sort; a few pieces of equipment remaining along one wall. Now, the room was a make-shift apartment. There was a desk and chair tucked into one corner, a few books and papers scattered across the top, and a gas lantern on the corner. Next to the desk was a shelf with neatly folded piles of clothing, and a few personal items. A mattress laid on the floor along the opposite wall. Stiles noted that the bed was neatly made which struck him as strange given that it was located in an abandoned underground train station.

Feeling nervous as Stiles inspected his make-shift living quarters, Derek felt the need to explain the situation to him. "Isaac managed to get the water running so there's a bathroom."

Stiles nodded, still taking in his surroundings. It seemed more hospitable than the burnt-out house Derek had been living in. He had expected it to be damp and drafty, maybe crawling with rats, instead he felt comforted by the effort Derek put into his space. And he felt tired; a wave of exhaustion swept over him as he turned back to face the werewolf still standing near the door.

Seeing the human's fatigue, Derek stepped forward and guided him to the bed, pulled the covers back. Stiles placed the flashlight on the floor near the head of the bed, pointing it at the wall to create a pool of light. Not a word was spoken as Stiles again took his cue from Derek and they stripped down to underwear and t-shirts and crawled into bed.

Stiles lay on his back, clutching the blanket to his chest with his head turned to face the man in bed with him. The man that he had been kissing frantically only minutes prior. The anxiety of the situation swept through him again, raising his heart rate and alerting Derek to it. He fought the urge to pull Stiles into his arms and try to comfort him; he knew that would only make him more nervous. Tentatively, he stretched his fingers across the cool cotton sheet between them until it brushed Stiles' upper arm.

"Will you give this some thought?" Derek asked, closing his eyes against the vulnerability of his request. "Us, I mean?"

Stiles smiled nervously, his eyes drifting over the other man's face. "Ask me again in the morning when the drugs are out of your system," he replied blandly, still feeling like the whole evening could be the result of Derek being drugged by the Alpha pack. He hadn't thought about Derek in that way before tonight, but that idea dropped a heavy sadness into Stiles' stomach.

"I will," Derek said.

Unsure if Derek meant he would ask in the morning or if he would still want Stiles in the morning, Stiles decided the best thing to do was to go to sleep and deal with it then. He leaned over to click the flashlight off and lay back on the mattress. Derek slid his hand further forward to rest his fingers on the curve of Stiles' shoulder.

Despite the stress of the night and being in a strange bed with another man, Stiles fell quickly into a deep sleep.

 

* * *

 

Stiles woke feeling overheated. It took him a second to remember where he was when he first opened his eyes. There was a small amount of light spilling in through glass block at the top of the high ceiling, lighting the room enough for him to see basic shapes around the room without the flashlight. He looked around the old station office, shifting slightly, only to have the strong arms circling his waist tighten around him. The strong arms he hadn't even realized were there; the strong arms that seemed to be the source of the unreasonable heat; the strong arms belonging to one Derek Hale, Alpha of the Beacon Hills pack.

Stiles froze. Before he gave into the panic that threatened to bubble up from his chest, he evaluated the situation. It was Derek's arms wrapped snuggly around him, not vice versa. It was Derek's face pressed tight into his side, not the other way around. He was the victim here, not Derek—maybe victim was a strong word; he didn't feel victimised. On the contrary, apart from his arm that was pinned against his side having a slight pins and needles feeling in it, his body seemed pretty content with the situation—perhaps a little too content even, but a 17 year old guy could hardly be blamed for waking up with morning wood, could he? Whatever condition his traitor body was experiencing could not fairly be blamed on him, surely.

Always wanting as much information as he could get about any given situation, Stiles tried not to move his body and rouse Derek as he angled his head down so he could see just what he was dealing with. Derek was on his side part way down the mattress, one arm draped across his waist and wrapping around his side, the other hand curled around his elbow. The werewolf's head was pillowed on the teen's left biceps with his face pressed tight against his ribs; warm moist air from his deep sleeping breaths warming the cotton over his chest.

Stiles marvelled at how peaceful Derek looked in his sleep. The Alpha's brow, usually furrowed in what seemed to be a permanent scowl, was relaxed leaving a clear sight line to the dark eyelashes that rested against Derek's cheeks. He looked so much younger that he typically did when the weight of the world seemed to rest on him. Stiles wondered at how it was possible that Derek could be even more good looking—life just wasn't fair sometimes!

Even if they had been practically trying to climb into each other's mouths last night, the closeness felt too intimate and Stiles felt like he needed to disentangle himself—hopefully without waking Derek because he was sure that there would be some sort of retaliation at being caught in such a vulnerable position. Moving slowly, he clasped his fingers lightly around Derek's forearm across his stomach, gently trying to lift it up and away from him. Of course he had grossly underestimated the weight and strength of his snare and had been too optimistic of his chances of getting out of the tangle of arms.

Derek woke with a start and before Stiles knew what was happening, he was pinned to the mattress by a vice like grip around his upper arms, knees pressed against each side of his chest and firm thighs pinning his hips down. Derek's snarling face was mere inches from his own.

It was only a split second of the Alpha staring into the youth's wide shocked eyes before he realised what was happening and released his grip on Stiles' arms and leaned out of his face. He didn't, however, remove himself from his perch on Stiles' lap which caused a instant flush of pink to the younger man's cheeks as he realised he was still sporting a rather noticeable tent in the front of his boxers.

"Oh...uh..." Derek muttered, realising the predicament he had placed them in, and quickly removing himself from Stile's lap. Stiles sat up quickly and scooted to the edge of the mattress away from the Derek. Derek, who was kneeling on his side of the bed staring at an indistinguishable spot on the sheet near his knees, his hands clenched on his thighs. His face was set in his usual scowl, which settled Stiles' nerves a little--at least he was dealing with more familiar territory this way.

"Um...I didn't mean to wake you," Stiles said quickly and quietly after a painfully awkward silence. Derek lifted his head to look at him, his eyebrows drawn tight over his eyes and his jaw set rigid. Stiles always felt the need to fill the air when Derek was a stern and serious like that, so he continued his quick ramblings. "How are feeling now? Better? You seem surly this morning, or...I mean, you seem more like yourself...uh...well, I..."

"Stiles?" Derek growled at him.

"Yeah?" the teen answered; the click of his throat as he swallowed audible in the quiet room.

The scent of arousal drifting off Stiles and mixing with the remembered feeling, despite having been sound asleep, of having his arms around the youth only moments ago was causing Derek some difficulty in restraining himself. He remembered the feeling of Stiles' hands on him last night, the taste of his mouth, the sound of his unrestrained pleasure. Derek wanted all of these things and more, but fought the urge to act upon his desire.

"Shut up," he gritted out through clenched teeth.

'Uh...okay, yeah. I'll just, um...go I guess," Stiles continued to ramble as he reached off the side of the mattress for his jeans. He had his pants pulled up around his hips, buttoning them when the light touch of fingers on his forearm stilled him.

"Don't," Derek's voice croaked quietly.

Stiles turned to look questioningly at the Alpha who moved across to the far edge of the bed and stood on his knees in front of him. He couldn't find his voice, which had to be some sort of first for him. He just gazed down at Derek, his brow furrowed and his jaw still tight.

"Don't what?" Stiles asked finally, his voice hardly above a whisper.

"Just...don't go yet," Derek huffed. "We should," he stopped to take a deep breath before starting again. "We should talk. About last night, I mean."

"We don't need to," Stiles mumbled, his cheeks blazing as he stooped to pick his jacket off the floor and started to cram his feet back into his runners.

"Stiles!" Derek said more insistently, and clamped his hand around Stiles' arm. The teen had no choice, but to stop his action, there was no way he was going to get out of the werewolf's grasp. Derek wasn't holding tight enough to leave a mark on his skin yet, but he knew from experience if he struggled his grip would increase. All he wanted to do was get out of there so he could deal with the odd rejection he could feel welling up inside of him. He hadn't thought about Derek in that way until they had kissed last night, but had easily fallen into a comfortable pattern once he got over the initial shock. Heck, he had even been hopeful that Derek had meant what he had said when he'd asked if there was a possibility for them to try this...whatever this was. But the way Derek had launched himself across the bed away from him and avoided making eye contact had crushed any hope that Stiles may have had of Derek feeling the same once the drugs had worn off.

Stiles thought he should be used to rejection by now; he certainly wasn't a stranger to it--but this felt worse because he hadn't been the one to start things rolling. Without looking at Derek at all, Stiles pled his case. "Derek, please. Let me go," he sighed quietly.

"Not until you listen to what I have to say. This isn't easy for me, okay? Just sit down?" Derek asked, pulling Stiles gently forward. The younger man sat on the edge of the mattress and rested his arms on his raised knees; his head hung low still not making eye contact with the wolf.

Derek sighed heavily, opened his mouth to start talking and closed it again. He rubbed his hand through his hair and sighed again. "Jesus, Stiles, I don't know what's making you so upset, but can you just look at me, please. The sadness is rolling off of you."

Stiles turned his head slowly and licked his lips nervously before raising his eyes to look at Derek, who was now sitting next  to him on the edge of the mattress with one leg bet underneath his so he could face Stiles.

"You don't need to explain anything Derek. I knew last night that when the drugs were out of your system, that things were going to go back to normal...I just didn't expect it to sting so much, that's all," Stiles mumbled the last part under his breath while turning away from Derek again. It was loud enough for Derek to pick up easily.

Derek reached his hand out, hesitating a moment with uncertainty flooding through him, before letting his fingers brush lightly over Stiles neck where a small purple mark had been left by his mouth the night before. Seeing the mark on Stiles' pale skin made the possessive nature of the wolf rise up within him, he wanted to add further marks to the boy.

"Stiles, things are the same as they always have been," he said quietly, a little hurt that Stiles had flinched at the light touch.

"Yeah, thanks for clearing that up," Stiles quipped, his voice heavy with his usual sarcasm as he got to his feet and made for the door.

"Stiles! Damn it, would you look at me?" Derek growled, catching Stiles' arm and stopping him before he walked out of the room, letting his hand fall back to his side once Stiles had stopped. "Everything I said last night is still true...it's always been fucking true. That's..." Derek's breath caught as he saw Stiles' crumpled brow soften as his words started to get through to him. "That's what I meant by things are the same. You said to ask you this morning when my mind was clear if we can try this...Stiles, my mind is clear, and I still want to try this if you're up for it," Derek finished, and watched Stiles' face carefully for his reaction.

"Jesus! I think that's the most words I've ever heard you speak at one time." Stiles relied on the first thing to come to mind to fill the space while he digested Derek's confession. He looked into Derek's piercing eyes, realising everything he had said was completely true. In one fluid motion, Stiles dropped his jacket, stepped forward quickly closing the gap between them, raised on hand to the back of Derek's neck and kissed him hard. It was only a split second before Derek caught up with the sudden attack and met him with as much force and hunger. Grabbing Derek's hip with his other hand, Stiles turned them so Derek's back was to the wall and backed him into it. Derek's breath huffed out of him as his back hit the wall.

Stiles had spent countless hours thinking about--fantasizing about-- what it would be like when he finally found someone that liked him back, and none of the things he had imagined had even been anything like this. None had ever been this charged with pure need. None of them had ever, ever had him aggressively attacking his partner's mouth so ferociously, and none of them had ever been with Derek 'I'm-a-fucking-god' Hale. He briefly thought that he must be dreaming--it was the only possible explanation as to why the Alpha werewolf was letting him press him into the wall with his body. Deciding if it was a dream, he had better make the best of it before he woke up.

He pushed himself flush against Derek, feeling his hard muscled body under his chest. He ran his hand roughly down Derek's sides pulling a gasp from him, which Stiles swallowed while licking into Derek's mouth. He slid his long fingers under the hem of Derek's grey t-shirt and traced his path back up his rib, bunching the shirt up along the way. Derek's skin was hot and smooth under his touch, and he wanted to feel more of it. Still holding on to his Dad's prudent talks about personal boundaries, he felt the need to check with Derek if what he was doing was okay, only to have his question answered by Derek's own exploring hands. He broke away long enough for Derek to pull his shirt over his head.

Derek's hands smoothed down Stiles' back, pulling their bodies tight together again.

"Oh, shit!" Stiles hissed as Derek arched his hip off the wall while holding his hips, rubbing their very noticeable erections together.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," Derek panted, his pupils blown wide and rimmed with a hint of red.

Stile shook his head briefly before finding the ability to string words together to answer Derek's concerned look. "I want to say yes," he breathed, nodding his head for emphasis, "Not no." Registering Derek's still hesitant look, Stiles dragged his hand further up his sides and took his shirt off too. "That's ok?" he asked, waiting for Derek's nod of approval before bending his head to lick and kiss his chest. "Just talk to me?" he asked, making his way lower.

"Yeah, okay. I can do that," Derek agreed in a breathy pant. "Oh, fuck!" he moaned as Stiles swiped his tongue over his nipple before letting his teeth lightly trap it.

Stiles' asking Derek to talk worked, for once. Murmurs of appreciation fell from him as Stiles dragged open mouthed kisses along his collar bone. His breathy moans of "fuck, yes" encouraged Stiles' to continue touching and exploring the muscles of his back and shoulders. His gasping of Stiles' name like a prayer as those long, sinful fingers he'd been watching for months dipped just under the waistband of his underwear coupled with a questioning quirk of eyebrows before Stiles attacked his mouth again with fervor.

On the contrary, Stiles had never been quite so quiet that Derek had witnessed before; he was all silent intensity as he put his oral fixation to good use.

"Stiles?" Derek panted, as Stiles ran the tip of his tongue along the shell of his ear. He wanted to just let go and give into to Stiles completely, but he felt lost and needed to gain some control back, even if just momentarily.

"Hmmm?"

The vibration of Stiles' voice on his throat pushed Derek's wolf nature closer to the surface. "Fuck," he growled as teeth sunk into his ear lobe. Grabbing Stiles' wrists, he quickly turned them around and pinned Stiles' arms to the wall at shoulder level. "My turn."

Stiles' shocked face quickly slipped back into a lascivious grin that Derek kissed away leaving him breathless. He slid Stiles' hands down the wall and turned them so his palms were flat on the cool wall near his hips. "Keep your hands there?" Derek asked, rather than instructed, maintaining the clear consent guidelines.


	3. Role Reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short short chapter tonight, sorry. Hopefully the next one will make up for it.

One quick movement had Derek on his knees in front of Stiles before Stiles had a chance to even fully realize the role reversal. He pressed his palms into the wall where Derek had put them, trying to keep from reaching out to touch Derek. A task that became even more difficult when Derek leaned forward and buried his face in his stomach.

"Uh God, Derek," Stiles gasped as the Alpha's burning mouth skimmed down his skin leaving him tingling and aching for more. More was exactly what Derek had in mind, too, as he deftly slipped the button of Stiles' jeans open and slid the zipper down, skimming his knuckles over the hard bulge of his dick. Derek wasn't taking his time, but he kept up with his agreement to talk as he went.

"Stiles, I'm going to suck you," he said, looking up the length of the younger man's body from his position in front of his waist, waiting for confirmation despite knowing that Stiles was fully on board with his plan; having supernatural senses came in handy for more than just hunting down enemies and detecting lies.

Stiles nodded frantically. "Yeah. Oh, hell yes," he gasped, reaching to help Derek's fingers already in the waistband of his boxers. Derek guided his hand back to the wall before pulling the obstructive cotton away and taking Stiles' cock deep into his mouth.

An unintelligible noise, not unlike the sound a wounded animal might make pulled from Stiles' chest at the feeling of warmth enveloping his dick.

Derek bobbed up and down Stiles' length, alternating between swirling his tongue over the head and sucking hard enough for his cheeks to hollow out. He didn't have a lot of experience when it came to blow jobs—giving even less than receiving—but it wasn't long before he found a rhythm that had Stiles whimpering and writhing against hold on his hips.

Stiles had his eyes closed and his head thrown back against the wall concentrating on the amazing feeling of Derek's hot mouth. Derek growled deep in his throat to pull the teen's attention back to him as he stared up at him. Once he'd made eye contact, he flicked his eyes to one of Stiles' hands and back to his face before humming his encouragement. It was only a brief moment before his intent registered through Stiles' lust-hazed mind, and the long fingers Derek had so long been watching twined into the hair at the back of his neck. He arched into the touch and practically purred in response without stopping his teasing of Stiles' dick.

He slid his hands off of Stiles' hips where he had been holding him still around to tug the teen's jeans a little further down, allowing him to fill each hand with smooth white flesh of his ass.

"Shit, Derek...I'm close," Stiles panted a few minutes later, rocking his hips forward and tightening his hold on Derek's hair in an attempt to warn him. It was only the polite thing to do, right?

Derek hummed around the mouthful of Stiles' cock, sending a shudder through him. He looked up, catching Stiles' eye again and holding it. Holding the slick base of Stiles' cock, Derek hollowed his cheeks as he slid his mouth back up the length, growling his approval as Stiles tugged lightly on his hair again.

"Oh, fuck," Stiles gasped as his body tensed and his orgasm peaked. He came in Derek's waiting mouth. Derek pumping his hand up and down, milking every drop from Stiles who leaned his head back against the wall and shuddered and moaned above him. Derek continued to suck and lap until Stiles began to squirm with the sensitivity. He held the younger man's hip firm against the wall and looked up at his blissful face.

"Holy Hell, Derek," Stiles sighed. He felt weak in the knees and if it weren't for Derek's firm hold on him, he was sure he'd collapsed in a boneless heap to the floor.

Rising to his feet in a fluid motion, Derek guided Stiles over to the mattress on the floor and settled him on the bed and lay down next to him. He watched Stiles in awe, tracing the path of pink flush over the teen's naturally pale skin from his cheeks, in blotches down his neck and mottled over his chest. Stiles shivered under his light touch and a smile broke over his mouth before he turned his head and cracked one eye open to look at Derek.

"Oh! I can uh, help with that," Stiles stammered, shifting onto his side and reaching his hand out to where Derek was lazily stroking himself through his underwear. Derek caught his wrist before he had a chance to, though.

"No," Derek mumbled shaking his head, looking briefly at Stiles and then away quickly, like he was embarrassed or suddenly shy about something.

"Why not?" Stiles felt a little self conscious which Derek must have caught on to quickly.

"I don't want to finish yet," he explained quietly earning a perplexed look in return from Stiles.

Lacing their fingers together and drawing Stiles closer to his chest, he leaned in to nuzzle the boy's neck a moment before whispering his real explanation into Stiles' ear. "I don't want to come until you're inside me."

Shock streaked through Stiles at Derek's confession. He must have heard the Alpha wrong or something. Maybe Derek had misspoken? He drew back until he could look Derek in the eye, searching for the truth of what he'd heard. He felt like a fish out of water, his mouth gaping as he struggled to wrap his head around what Derek had said. "What?" he asked, his brow crumpling a moment in confusion. Derek remained quiet and let his request fully sink in.

"Oh my g..." Stiles trailed off, still searching Derek's face as if he were waiting for the 'gotcha' moment or a punch line. "Oh!" Stiles' eyes widened as realization swept over him. "Yeah?" he asked finally, his eyebrows rising comically high in question.

Derek nodded and breathed "yeah", remembering his promise to keep talking to Stiles.

"Holy fuck," Stiles groaned. He pulled their laced fingers apart and grabbed hold of Derek's hip roughly pulling him closer and kissed him brutally hard. After a moment the kiss slowed and deepened and threatened to rob both of their breath. Panting, Stiles pulled back to confirm again that he'd heard Derek properly.


	4. Do You Want To?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even believe how long this one has sat without being finished. If anyone actually reads it, thank you! and I'm sorry for the crazy long delay. There will be at least one more chapter after this one.

"Stiles," Derek panted as the teen searched his face disbelievingly. He remembered Stiles' earlier request for him to keep communicating. It had seemed to work in his favour to be as direct as possible up until now, so he asked, "Do you want to fuck me?"

Stiles nodded his head, his perpetually parted lips falling further open as he drew in a sharp breath. Derek could hear his heart hammering, and raised his hand to press against the pale skin of Stiles' chest.

"Good. I want you to. I try not to think about how much I want you to," Derek confessed. Once the truth spilled from his mouth, he felt powerless to stop more from following. Not due to the intoxicating effect the wolfsbane concoction had had on him the night before, but from the liberating feeling of not denying what he wanted any more. "God, Stiles," he groan as he nuzzled into the younger man's neck, whispering his secrets into his skin. "I've spent so much time watching you and wondering what it would be like if I could do this; if I could just touch you. Never letting myself think too far ahead because I'd never thought that you would ever want me, too," he pulled back and looked in the teen's face again, making sure that was in fact true.

Stiles nodded again before gasping out a "yeah." They watched each other a few moments as hands drifted over skin slicked with the heat of being tangled together until Stiles managed to get his senses back under his command and asked, "Um...how?"

"How?" Derek raised a questioning eyebrow

"Okay, not how, exactly. I think I can figure that much out. I do have an internet connection," Stiles rambled. He was a teenager with a curious mind; he'd seen a healthy share of porn or just about every description. (So, he'd done a little exploring in his earlier teen years, what of it?) He had a healthy view of what his interests were, and yes, he was definitely interest in fucking Derek. "Where do you want to be, I guess? I mean, I'm not going to lie, the whole Alpha wolf thing hasn't really been that intimidating for a while, sorry, but being a...um...bottom isn't something I ever expect from you." Stiles was letting his mind run away with him, working himself into a frantic rant as different thoughts occurred to him. Sure, Derek was fully in control of his wolf nature—he'd been born that way, if he didn't get it by now he was a lost cause—but the idea of him submitting and giving control over to someone else like that was something Stiles just couldn't get straight in his head. Stiles sat up and tucked his knees underneath him as he turned to face Derek.

"I wasn't an Alpha when I figured out what I wanted in bed." Derek said simply, with a little raise of his one eyebrow.

Stiles wasn't sure how it was possible to be even more surprised in this situation, but Derek's matter-of-fact tone did just that. "Oh. You've done this before?"

"A couple of times," Derek confirmed with a shrug. "Sit back against the wall," he instructed while standing and pushing his underwear down over his hips. He bent to pick up a small bottle of lube tucked between the top of the mattress and the wall and knelt on the mattress again.

"Yeah. Okay. This works," Stiles stammered as he slid back toward the wall as Derek swung one leg over him to straddle his thighs. He raised his hands and lightly rested them on Derek's hips. At Derek's insistent "I'm not going to break, Stiles," he curled his fingers into smooth skin as Derek settled in Stiles lap.

The first brush of their cocks against each other had Stiles hissing with pleasure, arching his back off the wall, and leaning up to attack Derek's mouth. Stiles pulled Derek down while pressing up into him; loving the contact of hot skin, and loving even more Derek's nearly crushing weight. Derek didn't even try to hold himself off the smaller man, knowing that despite appearances, Stiles wasn't a skinny weakling; he could take it, and clearly he wanted it by the way he was clawing at him.

After what was either a few seconds or hours of grinding and sloppy wet kisses, Derek shifted his weight and blindly searched the mattress for the discarded lube. He kissed a wet streak down Stiles' neck before pulling away. He watched Stiles a moment, both of them panting to catch their breath. Stiles' eyes followed his as he looked down to flip the top on the lube and pour some onto his finger tips. He clicked the bottle shut and placed it within reach while rubbing the lube between his fingers to warm it. Stiles watched him intently, never letting go of the hold on Derek's hips, as Derek rose slightly onto his knees and reached behind to start opening himself up.

"Jesus, that's hot," Stiles murmured causing Derek to smile—a genuine smile. Something Stiles hadn't witnessed much, and certainly never at this close range. It left him reeling and scrambling to catch up as he stared at Derek's freely upturned lips.

"You still with me?" Derek asked, his smile turning into a smirk.

"Yeah. Yes," Stiles stammered, nodding frantically. "Can I?" Stiles sat forward a little and reached tentatively around Derek's hip, sliding his fingers lightly along the back of Derek's hand, brushing along his knuckles in askance.

Derek nodded, slipped his fingers free and wound them with Stiles to share the slick lube. Stiles breath caught in his throat. He didn't break eye contact with Derek at all as e slid his middle finger smoothly around the rim of Derek's hole before pushing it in alongside Derek's own fingers.  Stiles watched, slacked jawed, as Derek closed his eyes and tipped his head back, a soft moan passing his lips and his muscles fluttering around their entwined fingers.

"God, you're fucking beautiful." Stiles' mused admiration was more a realization to himself than directed at the werewolf in his lap, but Derek reacted by leaning forward and capturing his mouth in a wet, filthy kiss.

It wasn't long before Derek was breaking away and panting "I'm ready, are you," against Stiles' kiss swollen lips. "Do you still carry a condom in your wallet?" he asked after Stiles nodded his enthusiastic agreement.

Stiles blinked and raised his eyebrows as he shook his head, attempting to focus on Derek's question. Protection was important. He mentally scolded himself for forgetting that very important detail; his dad would be so disappointed that his continual safe sex lectures hadn't fully sunk in. Not that he intended to let the Sherriff in on that little detail, of course. "Yeah, I've got one," he nodded. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://wordsnwolves.tumblr.com/)


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